Message-ID: <3293eli$9708241038@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
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From: anakha@clara.net (anakha)
Subject: Best Of The Net: REPOST - Linda's Epic Adventures in Life (5/14)
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*****************************************************************************
Hi,

I have been downloading stuff from Usenet for some time and haven't
really been putting an awful lot back so I decided it was time to
repost the stuff I have.

There are a number of reasons for this. Firstly it is for those who
have only started using Usenet since the stories I have were
originally posted, secondly for those who may simply have missed them
first time round and lastly my contribution to fighting the ever
increasing spam which now saturates all of the sex newsgroups.

The vast majority of the stories I post will be plain bondage
orientated with a few subfem & femdom ones thrown in. Anything a
little stronger in terms of s&m isn't really my scene so there won't
be much like that. Also please note I am NOT the author of any of the
stories so the copyright notices of ALL of the original authors still
apply. (Also there is nothing that I can see from the original post
which says I can't repost this story. If you are the author and you do
NOT want it reposted then I suggest you let me, & everyone else,
know).

I hope you enjoy whatever I do post.

One last thing. Someone asked me recently if I was going to put some
of my stories on my web page for people to download. I am undecided
about this so would appreciate feedback on wether this is a good idea.

Bye for now. 

Anakha
http://home.clara.net/anakha/index.html
******************************************************************************
Part 1 - Chapter 5

Linda returns to the present --- "almost"!

As Linda withdrew her hands from her shaking body, seated before
the mirror on the small dancers' dressing table, she tried to
clear her mind of the thoughts of the tortured past and deal with
her present "situation" --- as well as the future.

But her mind wandered for just an instant to savour that fateful
introduction to a new sexual life and existence --- as it tried
to recreate the warm sexual sensations and mind controlling
legacy of expected and hoped for pain that always accompanied it
--- with the correct partner --- A MASTER!

Linda took her spread legs off the table top and set them on the
floor.  She glanced down at her wet hand and her stained bikini
briefs and reached into her dressing bag to get another of her
many revealing and hand made dancers' outfits.

She carefully retrieved them, placed them on the table and then
stood up and stripped the stained pants down her legs to the
floor.  As she stood up to unhook her bikini top she caught a
glance of her golden, shining four nether rings in the mirror and
as the top was removed from her breasts she stared at the two
shining upper rings reflected in the mirror in front of her.
Linda shook her head a little, shuddered, and threw the pale blue
outfit into the yawning, spread mouth of her open travel bag.

Hurriedly, she slipped into her extra black outfit, retrieved a
brush from her bag and straightened her hair and then pitched the
brush back into the bag and zipped it shut.

As she unlocked the dressing room door and came through it, she
saw B.J. dancing on the stage.  B.J. looked at Linda and raised
two fingers, telling her that this was her second song.  Linda
hurried to the juke box, arriving there as B.J.'s second song
ended and the third began.  Linda pitched the quarters into the
machine and, from memory, selected three song numbers on the
lighted numbered and lettered buttons --- then walked back to the
cash register on the end of the bar by the dressing room door.

Her deeply tanned, black hairy, tall, mustached Italian-American
boss, John, was ringing up a round of drinks as she approached
the register.

John looked up as Linda said:  "Have you given any more thought
about giving me a loan or an advance, John?"

"Sure, Linda."  John said, looking her straight in the eyes, "We
can WORK it out.  How much do you need?"

Linda didn't like the tone of his voice, but replied in a whis-
pered, low throaty, deep voice "Eight Hundred and Fifty Bucks ---
I know it's a lot, but the damn bank repo'ed my Firebird last
night --- the bastards hot wired it and drove it away in the
middle of the night --- I had to take a cab to work this after-
noon."

"That's a helluva a lot of money, Linda!" John said after whis-
tling lowly and, again, smiling at her.  "But, OK --- I'll do it
and you can work it off.  When you get through, we'll discuss it
--- AND THE TERMS AND CONDITIONS --- YOU'RE UP!  Hustle it,
girl!!!!"

"THANKS, BOSS!" Linda exclaimed as she came around the end of the
bar and mounted the stairs to the raised dancing stage in the
middle of the U-Shaped Bar.

"Don't thank me, babe --- you got to pay it back --- one way or
the other!" she heard him say as she hit the raised platform with
her bare feet, some eight steps above the sunken bar's floor.

The music started and Linda swung into action, glancing into the
mirror toward the other end of the bar.

"SHIT!" she thought --- "He's gone!"  The chair where the bearded
blue eyed stranger had been seated was now empty.  She glanced
quickly and searchingly around the room, but he was no where in
sight.  She looked back at the empty place at the bar and saw
that there were no drinks, cigarettes or bar napkins sitting
there and knew he had left while she was "recovering" in the back
dressing room.

She finished her three songs and wandered through the semi-filled
bar, from table to table, talking to some of the customers she
knew.  The rest of the shift went pretty fast as she sat with one
customer after another sipping their "gifts" to her, slowly, so
she wouldn't get plastered to the gills before dinner.  She
danced three more sets before seven o'clock rolled around and the
music and dancers ceased.  Within ten minutes, the place emptied
out with only about a handful of "regulars" still at the bar.

Linda was sitting next to one of them when John leaned over on
both of elbows, hands bracing his tanned face, and said "You got
a way home, Linda?"

"Nope," came the answer.

"Hhhmmmmmmm," came the pondering reply.  "Want'a work the night
shift?  I'm short two girls tonight".

Hell, "why not," Linda thought.  "Johnny's home taking care of
Tammara by now and I need the bucks --- besides, it's Friday
Night and the tips will be great --- as usual.  SURE! --- why
not? --- I don't have anything better to do," Linda told him.
"You given my 'request' any more thought?"

"Yah --- let's go get a pizza and talk about it, OK?" he said.

As he lifted his elbows up off the bar and walked away, she
watched his retreating back and thought to herself about the
tales she'd heard about this big, tanned, black haired, mus-
tached, "Italiano" lower middle aged operator.  He was alleged to
be one of the few sworn, blood "brothers" of the local "Mafioso"
--- a fact she could neither confirm nor deny from her personal
knowledge of him, which was negligible.  One thing --- he ran a
tight ship here in the lounge --- never letting anything get out
of hand, EVER and always checking the register.  He also spent a
great deal of his time talking with his customers and making them
feel like they belong in the place --- which is probably why this
little out of the way shopping center lounge was so damn popular.
The place did a hell of a business --- better that almost any
place she'd ever worked in before.

Linda excused herself, thanked her bar companion for the drink,
and as usual, left three quarters of it sitting there in the
glass as she walked around the end of the U-Shaped bar and into
the dressing room to change.

A little while later, she came back out carrying her travel bag,
dressed in black slacks and a loose pale blue silk looking blouse
and wearing a pair of brown sandals.  As she came through the
dressing room door she saw John standing behind cash register
talking to Jo Ellen, the bartender.

"I'm ready, boss!" Linda exclaimed.

"In a minute, Linda --- I gotta check Jo Ellen in first --- OK?"

Linda walked over and around the outside of the bar and headed
for the door.  Once outside, she took a deep breath of the fresh
spring air and looked out at the blinding sun sitting quite a
ways above the western horizon.  The light blinded her momentari-
ly after her almost four hours in the dimly lit lounge, but the
air felt GREAT as it replaced the stale smokey gunk that passed
for air inside that place.  She walked over and sat on the back
bumper of John's new Caddy, setting her bag down on the dull
asphalt parking lot as she did.

"What she'd really like to do," she thought, "was take a ride out
to Crooked Creek Lake and Dam, south of town, and sit on a dock
with her long, slender tanned legs and pale white feet in the
still cold spring time water."  But that'll have to wait for a
while until she got her Firebird back from the goddamn bank.

She'd still have it if Johnny hadn't have been laid off all
Winter, and she hadn't been so damn stubborn about going back to
work dancing.  The unemployment money just hadn't been enough to
cover everything, and despite her desire to stay home and take
care of her eight year old daughter, Tammara, Linda had finally
volunteered to go back to work at the only job she knew well ---
DANCING!  At first, Johnny wasn't at all happy about the idea of
her back in the "circuit", but he got over it swiftly as she
brought one neat looking dancer home after another to "party" and
perform on their go-go stage at home.  Johnny had built it for
her when she quit the dancing game a couple of years after Tamma-
ra was born and she'd had her partial hysterectomy --- partial
because they had left her ovaries in along with her cervix.
Anyway, Johnny was beginning to enjoy her return to dancing ---
maybe too much, she thought.  After six weeks, he was having a
ball entertaining her dancer friends in their twin, double home
in a run down but not hopeless section of the south end of town.
She was pretty sure that he was "making it" with some of them,
which did not in the least upset her.  The two of them had their
sort of unusual "code of married ethics" they operated by that
allowed either one to "play around" with whomever they wished, so
long as it didn't interfere a whole lot with their lives and
their daughter.

As Linda thought about Johnny and their daughter, John walked up
in front of her.

"You ready?"

"Uh Huh, --- Just give me a minute to call home and tell them I
have to work tonight," Linda replied.  She walked over to the pay
phone on the wall outside the lounge door, made her call and then
came back and got in the Caddy next to John.

John took her to "Othello's", a VERY NICE Italian restaurant
about two or three miles away and they had a quiet dinner in one
of the private dinning rooms, in subdued lighting, all by them-
selves.  "Some Pizza", she had thought when it was over and they
were sipping after dinner cocktails.

John leaned back in his chair and looked across the table at her.
"We have to be getting back, Linda --- it's eight forty-five!"

She started to get up and he said --- "Sit down a minute and
let's talk about your `problem', Linda.  I'm willing to bail your
car out of hock for you --- providing that you work double shifts
and --- providing that you are willing to work `private parties'
--- after hours --- for me?  You willing to do that, Linda?"

The prospect of having her Firebird back, substantially paid off,
made her happy, but this was going to be a lot of work --- and it
would keep her away from home from 3:00 or 3:30 in the afternoon
until 2:45 or 3:00 AM in the morning six days a week.  That's
didn't count the time involved in the `Private Party' thing,
either.  She wasn't going to get a hell of a lot of night time
sleep if she took this deal, she could see that.

She looked at John and said, "I think I can do that --- I'll have
to work it out with Johnny and Tammara but I think it'll work."

"Before you give me a definite `YES', Linda, I want you to know
that my `Private Parties' are pretty 'rough' --- you'll have to
dance nude --- AND --- UHHH --- you're going to have to dig out
your 'old tricks and talents' and `entertain' my friends in
between dancing sets.  Is that OK with you?"

Shaking a little, having ignored, originally, his reference to
`Private Parties', she was now having to deal with the subject
directly --- since he had now made it VERY clear what he expected
from her.  She thought about it and then asked --- "Entertain
them HOW? John --- What do you want me to do?  --- Specifically?"

"Bluntly? --- Dance naked, play with yourself in front of them on
the stage and then go down and play with THEM --- any way they
want you to and for as long as they want you to --- until four
thirty or five in the morning --- maybe longer --- but just on
Saturday Nights --- Sunday Mornings," he replied almost noncha-
lantly and with virtually no expression on his face or in his
eyes.

"The first "private party" --- a very SPECIAL ONE --- for some of
my `BUSINESS PARTNERS' --- is --- TONIGHT" he stated --- "if you
want the money, you have to start tonight, Linda!"

And --- having put the cards on the table for her to play with
and choose from, he got up and started for the door without
another word said between them.

Linda was silent all the way back to the Lounge, all during her
first set and even during the time in between the first and the
second sets.  She thought about John's 'proposition' the whole
time and honestly couldn't see any way in the world she could
turn him down.  She'd asked him for the money.  She was the one
who had started the whole thing, not him.  Now, she reckoned, she
was either going to have to shit or get off the damn pot ---
PERIOD.

Three years ago, she'd run away from "home" (and Johnny, espe-
cially) and had earned her living hooking her way across the
country from coast to coast.  She'd been gone over a year and
had, quite honestly, enjoyed the freedom for the first eight
months until she got wrapped up with her `problem,' again, down
in San Diego, California, after which her mind hadn't been either
free or made many reasonable decisions in her behalf --- but her
crazy assed body sure had.  She shook her head and cleared those
memories from her mind.  "That was ANOTHER story," she thought
--- and though not one she particularly wanted to forget all the
time, she had no time for it now --- to be sure.

She sat in the back corner booth thinking about whether she was
going to "go the rest of the way" with John and stick around
after she quit dancing at 2:00AM and join the "PARTY."

During the course of the rest of the evening, Linda had pondered
John's "offer" but he hadn't pressed her for an answer and she
hadn't volunteered one, either.

2:00 AM rolled around pretty fast and the other two dancers
started to pack it up to leave.  Linda had parked herself in the
back booth, again --- still --- and was now finishing her third
or fourth J&B on the rocks.  She made no move to get up and go
get dressed, but just sat there and drank and stared down at the
table.

Finally, at about 2:45AM when John had chased all the patrons out
of the lounge and locked the door and Jo Ellen had rung out and
was restocking the beer coolers behind the bar, John walked over
and sat down in the booth across from her.

"It's no big deal, Linda --- really it isn't," he said softly.
"I presume, since you're still here, we've got ourselves a
`deal', babe?"

She looked up at him from between her hand outlined face, propped
on her elbows over her J.B --- a little glassy eyed and fairly
well resigned --- and blurted --- "I'm still here, aren't I?
What the hell do YOU think, John?"

"Hey! --- Don't get pissed at me, sweetie! --- I'm not FORCING
you to do anything --- nothing at all! --- CORRECT?"

He was right --- it was her problem and her decision --- he
hadn't pressed her about it the whole night.  Just waited.
Frankly, she appreciated THAT more than she was willing to tell
him --- but she had a sneaking suspicion he already knew it and
had simply been letting her work it out within herself until she
had come to a rational decision --- "RATIONAL DECISION, MY ASS,"
she thought.  "Stripping nude, dancing nude and very obscenely in
front of a bunch of Italiano types and then fucking and sucking
them to their big black little hearts' content was NOT A RATIONAL
DECISION --- NO FUCKING WAY WAS IT `RATIONAL' or even REASONABLE,
for that matter!"

She stared across the table at him and said --- "I'm sorry, John.
It's just been a while since I consented to this sort of shit.
Really, it has --- but, it's OK --- I'll do it."

"OK, Linda --- just stay put --- have another drink or two ---
and RELAX --- just put your feet up and take it easy!  Jo
Ellen!!!  Get Linda another double J&B on the rocks, will ya?"

He got up from the booth and walked back through the hallway past
the rest rooms to the back door.  Linda heard him unlock it and
prop it part way open and then felt the cool, fresh night air on
her left shoulder as a gentle breeze slipped past her in the
booth by the hallway.

About 3:15, with only herself and John in the place, Linda heard
a pair of shoes coming down the back hallway, followed by a "Hey,
GUMMBAHHH, how'sa the tricks?" She recognized the voice.  It was
Pasqual, the little, bald owner of the Quality Inn, --- her buddy
and a "nice guy", Linda recalled.

"Hi, Linda! --- how ya been?"

She didn't answer him, but took another deep swallow of cool,
numbing J&B --- "Shit," she thought, "this is going to be a bitch
if all these guys are regular customers like him!  I'll never be
able to look em in the eye again!"  She shook her sand brown hair
out and thought:  "What the fuck!  I've been 'here' before and
I'll no doubt, be 'here' again --- it ain't no big fuckin' deal
makin' your money on your knees and your back!  Get your shit
together, you dumb fuckin' bitch", she admonished her ever numb-
ing mind.

"Hi, `friend' --- how's the motel business these days?" Linda
queried Pasqual.

"Ahhhhh, SO, SO," he exclaimed with a fingers extended and a 180
degree rotation of the hand palm down to palm up and back again
several times in quick succession.  "How's by you, Linda?  Life
treatin' you right these days?"

She gave him the same hand gesture back.  He nodded and walked
over to John who had come around the bar --- put his arms around
John --- and pounded him on the back with his hands.  Linda could
hear them whispering to each other, but she couldn't make out the
words at all --- as she heard more feet coming down the back
hallway at the same time.  She picked up her glass and took
another big swallow of melted ice diluted, straight, top shelf
J.B. and then eyeballed the arriving entourage as they walked
into the room and over to repeat the embracing bit with John.

Finally, when they'd all `done their thing' and virtually all of
them had turned around at one time or another to stare over at
her crouched in the back corner of her protecting booth, John
walked over past her and down the back hallway.  She heard him
slam the door and lock it.

His feet padded back up the hallway and stopped alongside her
booth and private hiding place for the last hour or hour and
half.

"OK, Kid --- let's get the `Show' on the road!  You need another
drink?"

Linda nodded sheepishly, tears streaming from her eyes as she
looked up at him.

In a very low, throaty whisper, he smiled back down at her and
said "relax, Linda --- RELAX --- you're one damn sexy lady and
you've got a lot of dancing talent --- from what I've seen of
your `moves' and the way you work `our' customers, this'll be a
cinch for you --- just choose your songs to tell part of your
`act' and then give 'em hell, woman!  YOU CAN DO IT --- I KNOW
YOU CAN!  Let's go!"

Linda looked back at him through glassy half drunken eyes and
slid out of her `hiding place', then walked over to the juke box
and took one of the pile of quarters off the top of the machine.
She punched a number, plugged another quarter, punched another,
and on and on until she had about twenty songs loaded.  Then she
walked between the leg of the bar and the wall, away from the
machine and turned left into the dressing room.  She shut and
locked the door and then stripped her black dancing suit off and
stared at her five foot seven slim body in the mirror on the
dressing table.  The gold rings glistened back at her.  "Oh,
Goddamn it," she thought, "those things have got to come off or
I'll never hear the end of it from these guys!"

She carefully reached down between her legs and grasped each
ring, one at a time, between two fingers of each hand and snapped
them open, rotated them until the open portion had slipped
through her lips, and then set them, one at a time, on a Kleenex
on the dressing table.  She repeated the process with the gold
nipple rings, which were about twice the size of the "pussy"
rings as her errant husband referred to them all the time.  After
placing the remaining two gold rings on the Kleenex, she gently
and carefully folded the tissue around them and reached down and
placed the precious package in the very bottom of her travel bag.

As her hand came up from the bottom of the bag, she grasped her
makeup kit and lifted it out and onto the table, opening it and
setting some of it's contents out on the table.  She sat down in
front of the mirror and started to make up her tear streaked, but
now dry face.  She tinted her cheeks to a blushing shade, shad-
owed her eyes in a deep bluish black sunken, but sexy look,
lengthened her eyebrows and filled them out wider and wider and
then painted her lips into a perfect `Cupids bow' form with a
fluorescent scarlet orange lip shade with her lip brush.

She ovaled her lips into a cock sized "O" and put the finishing
touches on them so that they framed the deep, soon not to be
empty, ovaled circle that led into her open mouth.

Then she went to work on her nipples and breasts and when she was
done, they also, stared back from the mirror at her in sexy,
sensuous splendour and flesh tone tints ranging from the colour
of her white skin through the colour of her tanned belly to a
very scarlet orange fluorescent colour on the nipples.

She stood up in front of the mirror and shaded the scar in on her
underbelly --- the one from her operation --- and blotted out the
stretch lines on the sides of her lower midriff.

Satisfied, she put her foot up on the far outside of the dressing
table and cranked her remaining foot, on the floor, outward
toward the other end of the table.  With one hand, she reached
down and spread the now opening lips of her sex and, with the
other hand, picked up her makeup and started to tint her hair
surrounded lips in varying shades and colours of the body, en-
hancing the natural colour and adding the same fluorescent tones
and quality to the portalled entrance to her womanhood.  When she
was finished with her handiwork, she laid the makeup down care-
fully on the dressing table, and without closing her spread legs,
reached under the dressing table and flipped a small switch at
it's under edge.

The overhead lights in the dressing room went off, as did the
makeup lights surrounding the large dressing table mirror, and in
their place the familiar "black light" glow of ultra-violet light
shimmered outward from the edges of the now dimmed mirror into
the darkened room.

As Linda gazed, numbly, into the mirror, it reflected back a
glowing, sex-filled image of four distinct portions of her now
thirty year old, slim, five foot seven inch womanly body --- she
ovaled her lips and spread her legs wider as she examined her
"artwork" with satisfaction.  There, before her glazed eyes was a
three level, four position image of the female organs and mouth
of the soon to be "dancer in the nude" for John's "Business
Associates".  The image was such that a viewing male would see
first and foremost, the sex, breasts and mouth of their "enter-
tainer" of the evening, and perhaps, they never would really see
much else, under the black lighted Go-Go Stage Lights and dark-
ened lounge.  Linda hoped so --- she really and truly hoped and
prayed that they saw ONLY those parts of her she had highlighted
in glowing "black light makeup" so that she could hide the rest
from them until her "performance" was over and she was out of the
place.

Satisfied, she reached down and snapped off the "black lights"
and then set her right foot back on the floor and started out of
the room.  As she came out of the door, John greeted her with
another glass of J&B on the rocks which she set aside on the cash
register as she picked up the little palm held stage lighting
control box, and stepped down into the sunken bar area floor and
then mounted the eight steps to the platform top and turned her
back on her "audience", the now relaxed white cheeks of her
behind gleaming out at them in the regular stage floodlights.
She looked at herself in the mirror that covered the back of the
stage area, and, with her finger on her right hand, thumbed the
`house lights' dimmer knob in a slow circle to kill all the
lights in the room but the lights on her stage.

She picked up the beat and the rhythm to the song playing in the
background and began to rotate her hips in a circle and move her
feet in perfect timing to music's base beat.  As she picked up
the movement of her body in time to the song she began slowly to
turn toward the men seated along the U-Shaped bar and smiled at
each and everyone one of them as she made a full rotation back
toward the mirror.  They applauded, enthusiastically, and she
went on through the number making a concerted effort to keep her
legs fairly well closed through out the entire number.

As the music faded away from her first danced song, she turned
back toward the mirror and hit the "kill switch" for the stage
lights on the box in her right hand.  The light died quickly
leaving the room pitch black and Linda moved swiftly to take her
"opening position" (chuckling to herself about the obvious pun as
she did).

It was silent in the room, dead quiet, --- with only Linda's
slightly laboured breathing audible when the next song started, a
tune that began with the crescendo music from the famous sound
track of "2001 - A SPACE ODYSSEY".

The music rose in both volume and instrumental focus and pitch
toward it's volumetric and rhythmic "climax" --- and as it ap-
proached the crescendo effect she had played it for, --- she
screwed the little light intensity knob on the box in her hand
down until it was in the off position and pushed the little
`black light' button.

Her audience saw nothing in the midst of the 2001 uproar and then
as the music built toward it's climaxing crescendo and the lead
up to it, what they saw, or started to see, brought audible
hisses of inward passing breath from the male mouths to Linda's
ears.

For --- there --- in front of them --- on the raised platform ---
was a perfect pair of female nether lips outlining a female's sex
canal in decreasing shades of intensity as the eye viewed inward
toward the black, spread, opening of her deepest sex and seat of
pleasure and passion --- and above and behind the display stood
two glowing peaks, the pierced but ringless breasts of the erotic
dancer spread before them on her back, arched up on her head,
feet flat on the floor and knees bent at ninety degrees so that
her straining back arched above the platform and her wide spread
legs provided a darkened and unhighlighted set of very dim fleshy
arrows pointing at the erotic display before their eyes.

The hissing intake of breath increased and then stopped as the
scene before them, slowly, and surely, penetrated their alcohol
dulled minds --- and Linda, slowly and deliberately, cranked the
blacklight knob toward it's maximum and then let the little
control box slide from her right hand onto the platform and
reached over her legs with both hands and spread back her sex
lips and began to rotate her crotch in a sexy, erotic and madden-
ing circle, carefully imitating the motions of a female's move-
ments in the throes of sexual intercourse and total sexual aban-
don.

The silence broke --- INTO A CRESCENDO OF CLAPPING AND WHOOPING
MALE VOICES AS LINDA RAISED HER PHANTOM LOVER HIGHER AND HIGHER
TO ORGASMIC COMPLETION --- and Linda's long years of training as
a paid `performer' of sexual favours took over completely and
totally --- as she made this "Linda's Night", NOT THEIRS!



Anakha.
http://home.clara.net/anakha/index.html
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